


Puberty

by JorgeCapybara



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Demons, Gen, Male Lactation, Mpreg, Multi, Nonsense, Object Insertion, Pregnancy, Psychological Trauma, Puberty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 12:45:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13904310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JorgeCapybara/pseuds/JorgeCapybara
Summary: Puberty comes a bit late and extra hard on Yuri. He didn't expect it to feel like this.orYuri faces the most peculiar morning of his life.





	Puberty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheStellarSeacow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheStellarSeacow/gifts).



> I'd like to thank my gorgeous wife @RunAwayWithMeTonight for spell checking it <3  
> A few parts are based in real life events, so this is very important and personal to me  
>  
> 
> There isn't a trigger warning specific enough for this
> 
> Enjoy!

Yuri Plisetsky woke up from troubled dreams. He wondered about the lack of Lilia’s complaints related to something about responsibility and too much time on the cellphone. He stayed laying down, concentrating and sharpening his senses to the tiniest move in the apartment. Defeated, he realized he would have to make his own coffee, and raised his hands up to his eyes to rub the sleep from them.

With his eyes closed, he noticed a sweet scented fluid flow onto his face in a thin, but continuous stream. He used his other hand to drain the excess, causing the opposite effect. Now the strange fluid threatened to get in his mouth and gathered in the hollows created by the weight of his head on the mattress.

Yuri sat annoyed and tried to dry his face. “Lilia has furniture that is worth a car, but does nothing about basic things such as insulation.” he thought. That made no sense, since they didn’t live in a penthouse. 

His fingers from both hands felt weird, so he couldn’t grasp the sheets to dry his face. With unease, he took his hands from beneath the covers to check if there was something wrong. Yuri screamed after confirming that “something wrong” would never start do describe the proportions of the absurdity that had fallen upon him. 

He kept screaming, as if his voice would wake him up from this nightmare. Yuri kicked the covers, the pillows, everything, ending up falling from the bed with his legs tangled to the sheets.

With all the commotion, he didn’t notice the dry blows of urgent steps running around the house and acted surprised when Yakov and Lilia shoved the door of his room, strong enough to dent the drywall. They ran to the bed and crouched down to check Yuri. Him, whom’s face was a mask of panic, as he raised what used to be his hands up to shoulder height.

The old couple widened their eyes, but didn’t move a single muscle. Where there used to be white and calloused hands, had turned into baby bottles full of milk. 

A long silenced stretched accross the room. Yuri was shaking, making the milk to shake even more inside the nursing bottles that he had now instead of hands. After the first seconds of fright, Lilia held his bottles for him to calm down and faced Yakov, annoyed.

“Yuri, the time has come for us to have a really serious talk.”

Yakov dried his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt and stared towards the floor.

“It won’t be, by any means, something easy to hear. You better take a deep breath, climb back to the bed and try to calm down.”

“Hmm…”

Yuri wanted to say something, but didn’t know from where to start. Each past moment his morning seemed to make even less sense. He felt dizzy and sick, but held God’s hand, spilling a bit of milk over it, and braced himself to whatever he had to listen. 

“Yurochka, we are so sorry.”Yakov said, noticing the misery of his student. “When the red army invaded Praga…”

“Yakov, you are making things worse!” The mean tone of Lilia could be heard “Yuri, you have two prostitution demons in your body at this very moment. One male and other female, due to your bisexuality.”

“Yeah. Two archangels brought Stalin’s soul from rehab and made love to him over your body to kill the prostitution demons.”

“It’s a rare occurrence, but Victor has been through the same thing some years ago.”

“Your hands turned into nursing bottles by the strength of your heart”

Each phrase said, sent tiny punches to his brain. Yuri’s mind transported itself to far away, until his coaches voices become nothing more than echoes penetrated by a faint buzz. He was going to collapse. He was going to collapse for sure.

“Yura!” Lilia held his face between her hands, a ring with some big and heavy stones pulling a few hair strands. The shock tying him to the present time. “Listen to me, we can get your hands back.”

“We shall not waste time. Yurachka, stretch your arms to the front and close your eyes for ten seconds.”

If it would bring the baby bottles to his gaze field, the better option was indeed not to look. Even the slightest glance made him sick. The hope for normalcy pushed him. In the dark, he started to count and, in a few seconds, felt the mattress dipping while the wooden bed cracked, presuming his coaches did climb along.

A particularly curious aspect of the situation: the nursing bottles were ticklish. The bottles nipples were like his fingers, five in each hand condensed in a single one, then converted into a rubber edge. The importance of that realization comes from the viscous sensation that made Yuri open his eyes. 

“A---AAAAAAH!” He screamed mortified over the scatological portrait burning behind his eyes.

Yakov and Lilia, completely naked, kneed on his bed, sucking greedily the milk from the baby bottles.

His heart felt like jumping through his mouth.

He tried to pull his arms, but the suction was too intense. Beyond that, his coaches seemed to be in a kind of trance. They looked through Yuri, to a mysterious point lost in infinity. 

It was when, through the corner of the eye, Yuri noticed a shadow stopping by the window behind the bed.  
From the other side of the dusty glass, Otabek’s face stared into the window.

Yuri wanted to turn around and ask how his friend were able to climb to that apartment window, that was located at the third floor, but he couldn’t even move the shoulders. The pressure was too great, more than any suction cup. He didn’t think of giving up, though.

“OTA---“

“Shhh…”

The sultry hiss made itself heard even through the glass. Otabek took his index finger to his lips in a pledge for silence while, with his other hand, he gesticulated for Yuri to look ahead. 

Yuri swallowed hard and pinned his gaze to the wall before the bed. He tried to concentrate on his own breath, but the erratic throb of his veins rebounded deafening.

No more than out of a sudden, he heard Otabek’s voice, between peace and boredom, to whisper:

“Beyond the imaginary hills  
There was a cotton inn  
In other times, an asylum  
For boys drought in sin

I floated on my way  
With not a road to follow  
Yielding a bent torch  
Burning red my hollow

We walked on the borders  
Kissing fire to each grove  
Ripping the flesh of my bones  
Died on the forge our love

Please, don’t cry anymore”

By the end of the poem, Yuri noticed Yakov and Lilia were no longer sucking on him. Before he could react, the couple, still in complete trance, shouted in unison:

“Give me milk! Oh, Yuri! Pump us with the last drop! Your hands are almost here!”

After that was said, they turned around pointing their butts to Yuri.

He closed his eyes so tight, he felt stinging around the corners. New clouds of pestilent absurd took form over another, over and over. He didn’t know what to expect anymore, or for how long that torture would drag.

He felt something to fondle his cheek and wondered if it was a good idea to confirm from where the touch was coming. He took three deep breaths to gather courage, but opened a only a single eye.

It was Otabek’s foot, inserted through the now open window, while his face remained undisturbed in the same place. He tried to conceive the position his friend put himself into.

It distracted him for a brief moment, enough to choke to the feeling of hands pulling him by the arms. Lilia and Yakov held the nursing bottles lined up to their assholes with an inhuman strength.

“Our milk, Yuri! We want the last drop! Fill us with the milk of life!” they whispered together. His coaches now seemed to share a single mind. A sole conscience in two boxes of decadent flesh. They started to force the nursing bottles against their hot assholes.

Yuri screamed in despair. He felt the loneliest after realizing that even Otabek didn’t seem to care about his suffering. While he emptied his lungs, the baby bottles were diving into Yakov and Lilia’s soft anuses with surprising ease. He still found in himself with some sort of dignity, only enough to feel ashamed for the scene he was making his first friend to watch. 

Closing tightly his eyes once more, he verified his hands were inserted beyond the wrists, and they no longer were being swallowed by the old couple’s wrinkled butts. Yakov and Lilia were completely petrified now, like wax dolls. Suspecting a sudden truce, Yuri tried to pull the nursing bottles slowly as if to avoid waking a sleeping demon.

The more he pulled, he started noticing there was flesh instead of plastic. Fingers instead of rubber nipples. His heart raced, this time with the feelings of hope and relief. Tears escaped his eyes, overflowing, trying to wash all the disgraces from that morning. Each teardrop, a grain of sand made of trauma rolling far away. There was a whole dune to move.

 

6 months later -

 

Yuri walked around the kitchen feeling anxious and checking his phone every ten seconds. Otabek’s flight landed a little less than half an hour ago. Depending on their luck, he would be on his way to Lilia’s apartment already.

Yakov and Lilia were laying together on the couch in front of the fireplace, about to finish another crosswords puzzle and occasionally chiding Yuri for being so impatient. During the winter, the couple covered themselves with layers and more layers of blankets and scarves. It made them look even more like grumpy grandparents and less like spartan professional coaches.  
Even under all those layers of wool, it was impossible to hide their pregnancy.

Lilia spent the last months getting sick of all kind of smells all the time. It was impossible to make her comfortable. Yakov’s pregnancy, although, was being developed placidly, except for the weird urges that wouldn’t last more than fifteen minutes. The couple, that had postponed having kids so much, discovered with Yuri what was like having a family.

They smiled.

Otabek would arrive just in time to watch them laying all those eggs.

**Author's Note:**

> How was it? Please let me know :D
> 
> See you on the next level!


End file.
